My husband (1)
My husband and i went to a funeral a few weeks ago. The man we honored had not been ill and will never grow old. He was killed in his car on a Sunday night, wholesale replica designer handbags, driving home long a divided highway.
It was an ordinary evening, no blacker than any other, when a car coming in the other direction went out of control. Broke through the guard rail, and hit two other cars before smashing head on into his according to the newspaper, the driver, who was returning from a wedding, seemed puzzled. “I only had two bottles of beer and a cocktail, “she is reported to have said.
A wedding.
Followed by a funeral.
I wish she could have been there to see all the lives her act has changed forever, the wife, and four children, the extended family, the hundreds and hundreds of friends who sat in painful silence, wholesale designer handbags, listening to words which barely touched the depths of their grief.
Strange to think that, according to the national highway traffic safety administration, this happens in America every 23 minutes.
Somebody drinks.
Somebody drives.
Somebody dies.
And other lives are altered forever, though sometimes the changes any be invisible to a casual observer. By chance, wholesale coach handbags, the day before the funeral I ran into a longtime acquaintance while shopping. He commented on my crutches. I asked if he and ever broke his leg.
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My name: Irene
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